No Escape
by Spam-The-Great
Summary: Before Selena, before Talia, there was another in Bruce's life whom he met at a very young age...but, what happens when she decides to visit him?
1. The Troubled and The Slacking

A/N: Hiya!  My first Batman Fic!  Fun!  Anyway, this is suppose to be a love fic (for who? Hmm…take a guess…).  So, have fun and enjoy reading it! 

**No Escape:** **_The Troubled and The Slacking:_**

The moonlight streamed across the rooftops, deeply contrasting the shadows that lurked in the nooks and corners.  The full moon hung in the darkened sky, boasting of its luminous nature and enormity while the streetlights, down below, shrunk their own light back in fear of offending the heavenly object above.  Further down, a bustling crowd of flesh and mechanics fled to and for, each with a set destination in mind, occasionally breaking their busy travels to dreamily gaze upward at the beautiful, round object.

            But, to Batman, none of this pleased or comforted.  His mind to plagued, he hastily leaped across the moonlit path, a dancing, darkened ghost.

            "I _have_ to slow down…"

            Contrary to thought, he sped up, slowly distorting into a dark blur.  He continued on in this manner until the inevitable occurred, the path ended giving way to an enormous, artificially lit gap.

            "Damn…"  The cloaked figure muttered, slowly trotting over to the edge of the building.  Crouching, he overlooked the crowded street below, enraptured in his own thoughts.

He knew this feeling intimately…what was it called?  Ah yes, loneliness… 

A frustrated sigh escaped through his lips as a hand covered the lower portion of his face.  Slipping his hand downward until totally off his face, the wish for a distraction came to mind.  In response to his plea, a warm wind carried a distant cry for salvation.

"Time to go to work…"  Batman stated as he grabbed for his grappler.  With one push of a button, he was off, soaring above the hectic streets of Gotham.

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Meanwhile, at the Wayne Mansion…

The house echoed with Silence.  Up and down the grand halls She wandered, content to finally be free.  Luckily, Alfred had long since stepped out to attend to the weekly grocery shopping while the multi-millionaire had left, decorated in his trademark spandex, reeking of an over-active mind.  Silence extended her arms and fled throughout the halls, laughing wickedly.  She approached the main staircase and, hopping two-by-two down the stairwell into the spacious living room, halted due to a sudden presence of her twin, Sound.  The unheard goddess cursed herself for absentmindedly forgetting to calculate Tim Drake into her equation. He was curled into Bruce's much-preferred arm chair fixated on the blaring box in front of him, cluelessly shoveling assorted cupcakes into that crater he claimed to be his mouth.  Sound approached her sister and smirked, unspokenly declaring this territory as hers and Silence, accepting this, slowly made her way back up the stairs.  How blue She must have felt to have her freedom, which was not granted often, limited.  At the top of the stairwell, she starred down a long, dark hallway.  Ah well, there was the rest of the house.  

As for the youth, the events that took place went unseen and unheard, partly due to the goddesses concealing themselves and the other contributing half was "The Creeping Terror."  That certain movie had completely engulfed his mind, displaying no warnings of unhooking its mental grasp.  Of course, Tim was not suppose to be in that certain situation but, was thought by his peers, to be finishing those gracious gifts his teachers blessed him with that Friday afternoon.  Little did they know Tim, who, could not be parted with an afternoon filled to the brim with science fiction, no matter how many orders were placed on his shoulders.

            So far, the Terror had succeeded in consuming a good number of people and yet, its hunger still persisted.  Luckily, it spotted another victim as the it crept up on Gray Wilson, a pudgy and gentle fellow.

"That's right!  Waddle fat man, waddle!"

            Poor Gray fled, hoping to escape the hungry jaws of the monster.

"You'll never ever get away!  Ha!  Oops…looks like your roundness increased gravity down that hill…too bad!"

Unfortunately, the Creeping Terror cornered Mr. Wilson and advanced on him, preparing to devour him, his size undaunting on the monster.

Just as the monster was about to strike, Tim was snapped out of his reverie to a ringing phone.  

"Damn!  Just when it was getting good…"  The raven-haired boy grudgingly lifted himself out of the couch as he recalled that the phone was solely the only con to possessing the enormous estate.  He quickly bounded over to the kitchen where the nearest jack was positioned.  

"Hello?" 

"Uhm…hi…is this the Wayne residence?"  The timid voice of a woman answered.

"Yeah…and?"  Tim was annoyed and had no trouble revealing his true feelings to this caller.

"Oh…"  The caller hesitated, clearly taken aback by the rudeness shown to her, "…well, can I leave a message?"

A blood curdling scream resonated through the mansion, "_Oh no…He got Miss Cordelia…damn it!  I missed it!_"  Tim sighed, "Yeah, whatever…"  And hastily retrieved a pen and paper, fully dreading this conversation.

"Could you tell Bruce to call Tripsy back?"

_"Call…Tripsy…back…"_ He mentally replayed while he wrote, "Tripsy?"

"Yeah…" The caller agreed shyly, "He'll know what I mean.  Anyway, tell him that I'm staying at the Embassy Suites in downtown Gotham.  There's only one and I have no idea what road this building is on.  Oh yeah, and my room number is 32.  That would help out a lot…"

"Uh…huh…" In record time Tim had all the needed information transferred into ink.  Another roar replaced the silence, followed by a crash, increasing Tim's impatience.

"Hey, thanks!"

"Yeah, yeah!  Goodbye!"  Slamming the phone back on the jack and rushing into the living room, Tim managed to catch the finale of Miss Cordelia Gumburts life right before the monster pounced on her.  He curled back up into Bruce's chair, "Oh good…I didn't miss too much."

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_A/N(again): Ok, so, what did you think?  Good? Bad? Somewhere in the middle?  Let me know what you think!  Also, if you want to know what "The Creeping Terror" is, it's an old 60's movie B-movie that's incredibly hilarious!  It's not meant to be but…well…it ends up being that way…If you want more info, just go here_: http://shopping.yahoo.com/shop?d=v&id=1800412424


	2. Perchance to Sleep

_A/N: This chapter's a bit short.  Sorry about that!  And that's about all I have to say for now…ta ta!_

No Escape: _       Perchance to Sleep_: 

He thoughtfully tapped his chin, formulating and deducing.  "An nine letter synonym for stupid…hmm…"  He muttered.

So, there our hero sat directly in front of a cereal box, examining the contents on its backside.  The house had long been filled with Sleep and Dreams, both of which entertained the other two occupants but seemed to have a grudge against Bruce Wayne.  He had arrived back at a reasonable hour from his crime-battling occupation and retired to his bed but, like stated before, Sleep and Dreams seemed to dislike the multi-millionaire tonight.  And so, Bruce found himself in the darkened kitchen, slowly eating a bowl of Cocoa-Cocoa puffs, entertaining himself with puzzles and riddles.  

            "Ah!"  He snapped his fingers, "Ignoramus!"  The playboy followed down to the next riddle but, after a time, they became mundane resulting in him entertaining himself by stirring and staring at the hearty breakfast meal.  That was, until Alfred entered and upon realizing he was not alone, greeted his surrogate son, "Good morning sir…back already?"

Broken from his trance with a floating chocolate puff, Bruce turned and smiled at the butler, "Good morning Alfred."

"You could not sleep Master Bruce, could you?"  Although the Butler's years were catching up with him, he still retained his sharp intuition and, was likely never to lose it.

The Alter ego of the Dark Knight ruffled his unkempt hair and sighed, obviously agreeing with Alfred's statement.  

A knowing smile wormed itself onto Alfred's face.  Even though Bruce had never spoken to the Butler directly, Alfred had decoded his employer's signs revealing the cause of his gloomy aura and obliviousness to the world: Loneliness.  Yes, Alfred knew.  However, he also knew how to completely rid Bruce of the disease and was determined on executing his cure right at that very moment.  Alfred drew a piece of paper from his robe pocket, placing it in front of Bruce, "This message came for you today, Master Bruce."

Once Bruce laid eyes on that fragment, excitement coursed through his veins as surprise blanketed over him.  

_It was her…oh God, how long had it been?_

Alfred, witnessing the first stages of his own administered cure, slipped stealthy to the sink, retrieved himself a glass of water and slinked back to his bedroom.  Bruce, dazily regained his composure from his reminiscing, finishing off the remains of his meal, brown milk and all, and made his way over to the sink.  Placing his bowl down, he sighed, "No wonder why Tim likes these…now I'll never be able to get to sleep."  Yet, with that statement came no despair or dread instead, only a feeling a peace and excitement could be found.  Somehow, Bruce knew that no matter what he was experiencing beforehand, that was all about to change and, for the better.

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	3. Flashback

_A/N: Another installement!  Watch out, it's long!  Enjoy!_

No Escape:

**_Flashback_**

****

            A cool autumn wind swept throughout the vast lawn of Wilson's Preparatory School.  The old-monastery-turned-school's dark stone and steeples contrasted the soft blue sky that hung above and the bright trees that stood about it.  This succeeded in frightening and discomforting the small newcomer as he gazed upward at the grand monastery.  

"Beautiful, is it not?"  His tall companion queried and then glanced at his watch, "Come now.  We are very late."

            The small boy shifted his gaze to the two large entrance doors, warily watching his back as he made his way into the spacious building.  

"Students, we have a new classmate.  I want to introduce him."  

The children, ignoring their teacher, continued on in their merry making.

"Children…"

Still no acknowledgment.

"CLASS!"

Complete and total silence followed as a handful of eyes shifted their gaze upon their short teacher, Mrs. Alberry, and the shy child engulfed in her shadow.

Seeing that she had caught their attention, she stepped aside, revealing the black-haired boy to the group, "As I was saying, this is your new classmate, Bruce Wayne.  I want everyone to be extra nice to him and give him a warm welcome."  She smiled warmly.

"Hi Bruce!"  The chorus of little voices greeted him.

"Now Bruce, go on and sit over in that empty desk," She gave him a gentle push down the right-most aisle toward the very back desk, "Yes, that one near the window Bruce!  Good, now class, get out your English booklets.  Today we're going to learn about pronouns!"  She gave a mischievous smile.

A full class groan was instituted while Bruce, who was entirely new to school practices, shifted quietly in his seat.

"To begin, a pronoun is a word that sits in the place of a noun, as you can see on page 23, figure 2…"

Although, the teacher was attempting to lighten up the learning, succeeding very well, the newcomer could not focus on the lesson.  The little heir swung his feet back and forth absentmindedly, wistfully peering out the window.  Oh why did he have to be here?  Couldn't have Alfred just kept him home and school him like he had done before?  He was ten now!  Big enough to stay home by himself…but, no!  Alfred had sent him off to this private school with their itchy uniforms, stating that it was better this way.  "Human interaction is many more important lessons than I or any textbook could teach you Master Bruce," The surrogate father had informed him in response to his complaints.  Bruce laid his head down on the desk, continuing to stare out the window as the stinging of pent up frustration and loneliness submerged from his eyes.

"_if only father were-_" He paused as the realization stung once more, "…_he's not_…"

This day was rapidly deteriorating…

"Recess!" A wild-brown-eyed boy triumphantly declared as he scampered past Bruce and bolted through the Wilson's Preparatory School's large entrance doors.  A smack sounded as he collided with one of the two doors, whizzing through it.

            "Eddie!  Slow down!" A blonde-haired hefty youth exclaimed, slowly trotting up to Bruce, "Stupid jerk…"  He puffed.  "Ya know, you think he'd receive brain damage from a' smack like that.  Nope, not Eddie!  He's got nothin' in there!"  He turned to Bruce and grinned,  "Anyway, welcome ta' the school!  My name's Oliver but, everyone calls me Ollie!"  An extended hand was offered to the newcomer.

            What had he to lose?  The raven-haired boy warily took the presented hand and shook it, "I'm Bruce but, I guess you already knew that…"

            "Ah!  So ya do talk!  We all thought that ya were a mute or somethin'!  C'mon, I'll introduce ya to the boys but, first ya gotta do somethin' for me…"

            Bruce raised an eyebrow, "What?"

            "Stop lookin' like you've lost a' caboodle full of money on the races!!  Smile a little!"  Ollie graciously gave his new friend a grand pat on the back as a hearty laugh was uttered.

            As much as Bruce tried, he could not hold it back, and soon, the heir's grin was as large as his companion's.

            Maybe today wasn't as horrible as he thought…

            Out on the enormous-fenced in lawn, which hosted the recess activities, Bruce and his newfound friends resided underneath the mother of all oak trees, Big Bertha.  Her brilliantly colored leaves boasted of Autumn's majesty as Her roots were the perfect throne to have your rear-end seated upon, making Her an ideal meeting spot for the small children.  Today, the "Clan," as they called themselves had succeeded in fending off the hungry vultures and were granted their own individual root to reside upon, all except for Eddie, who enjoyed hanging from a branch, resembling an upside down monkey.  "It helps me think," He stated promptly in response to Bruce's odd looks, "My brain don't work much anyways and this gets it goin' cause of all the blood!"  As soon as the boys were all settled, puzzled glances were shot in Ollie's direction whom stationed himself next to the "new kid."

            A second blonde-haired youngster was the first to speak up, "Hey Ol, why not introduce us?"  He gestured towards Bruce.

            "Oh yeah.  Hey!  Everyone, this is Bruce Wayne." Ollie nudged Bruce and whispered, "What did I tell ya?  Stop lookin' so dreary!"

            Eddie swung to and fro on his branch, "Is he mute?"

            "No.  I'm not…I just don't wanna speak!" 

            "Nope, he's not.  In fact, he's gotta full set o' lungs!"  A tall auburn-haired lad with a narrow face exclaimed, "By the way, I'm Jack."  He thrusted a thumb at the mop-top blonde-boy seated next to him, "This here's Howard."

            He nodded at Bruce.

            "And this is Eddie, but you know that."  Jack continued.

            "Ooga!"

            "He was born with quite a few bolts missing so, you'll have to excuse him!  To move on, this is Jared," The auburn headed youth gestured towards a handsome black-haired, brown-skinned child.

            "Hey Bruce.  Nice to meet ya."  Jared nodded.

            "And, last but not least, this is Fritz."

            "Howdy!  Bruce Wayne?  The heir to millions?"  Fritz, a small black haired boy with coke-bottle glasses, leaned forward.

            "Yeah…"  Bruce warily agreed.

            "Neat!  We have ourselves a pre-paid millionaire in our midst gentlemen!"

            "It's really nothing…"

            "Really?"

            "That's so incredibly cool!"

            Poor Bruce.  Too many questions were hurled at him simultaneously by his excited and surprised comrades, all except for Oliver.  Suggestions of donations, suggestions of birthday presents, suggestions of lending, all at once plagued the boy.  Oliver, sensing the tension in Bruce, decided to put an end to the press session,  "Hey guys!  Knock it off or I'll pound yous!"  Ollie held up his fist as chaos was bumped aside by order once more.  "Jeez, yous guys are just as bad as the 'porters!"  Referring to the loathed newspaper reporters.  "Don'tcha see that Bruce here has got enough to worry 'bout without yous harpin' on him!"

            A chorus of apologies followed in response to Ollie's statement except for the odd ball, who was perched on top of his branch, listening.  

            "Hey, you guys hear that?"  Eddie inquired.

            "What?"

            A small giggle was sounded from above, "_That_"

            All boys glanced upward into the trees canopy, surveying the scene.  Another giggle was sounded, then the cracking of branches and finally, a scream.

            "Hey Bruce!  Watch out!"

            The last thing he remembered was a brown blur falling from above…

            When Bruce came too, he was lying on a stiff bed in-between, what felt like, incredibly starched sheets.  The small room's walls appeared to be freshly painted white while the floor was incredibly waxed.

            "Hmm…ice rink…"  He muttered as he laid his head back down on the stiff pillow, drifting back into unconsciousness.

            "You killed Bruce, Trixie…"

            "I know, so stop rubbin' it in…" A guilt-ridden brunette sighed.  

"I mean, what in the world were ya doin' up in that tree, anyway?"

"Just shut up Oliver!  Stop rubbing it in!"

And there sat the "Clan" and the guilty party, all lined up against the wall, facing the judge..  They had been personally invited to "talk" with the Principal of Wilson's Prep School after Bruce was carried off to receive medical attention and he had received word of the happenings.  The small brunette, Trixie, half of the guilty party, was hunched up in her chair, looking as guilty and troubled as ever.  To the left of her was the other half of the party, her "bosom friend" and sibling, Jenny.  She was a beautiful little creature with her long, raven hair and dark skin.  Meanwhile, on the right of the two girls sat their older brother, Oliver, and his "Clan," all of whom, save for Jared, frowned at Trixie and her companion.   

            Principal Henry T. Weltz peered over his steel frames and glared at the two children, "Please be _quiet_ and refrain from fighting…"  He growled.  How long had he been at this?  He glanced up at the clock and sighed.  It had been about an hour and all he received from conversing with the youngsters was that Trixie fell on Bruce.  No more, no less. To receive the other pieces of the story was next to impossible for, Oliver and Trixie, fought terribly as the other witnessea either sat quietly or joined in the fight.  Being Principal Weltz wasn't always easy…   

            The sudden outburst shut both children's mouths, however, the tension still sparked between them.

            "Good, now that you've finally stopped fighting, for the tenth time." He rubbed his temples, "Would you, _Jenny_, please tell me what happened?"

            The beautiful youth's head bolted up and starred at Principal Weltz, startled by the sudden switch of questionees, "I…uh…,"  She glanced at her siblings receiving gentle looks of encouragement and then squeaked, "Well, you see, me an' Trixie had heard the kids sayin' that there was a birds nest up in Bi-…the tree…so, we went an' looked an' then Trixie fell because of the branch bein' wobbly…"  She timidly glanced up at the Principal, then back to the floor.

            The Principal, who had been listening to the 'reasonable' story with interest, leaned back in his office chair, "Uh-huh Jenny…thank you.  Now, Jared, tell me your story…"

            Jared coolly made eye contact with the tall, handsome man behind the large wooden desk, "Well, you see Principal Weltz, me an' the boys were underneath the tree being introduced to Bruce when, Eddie here heard some noises.  We all stopped and looked up into the tree and that's when Trixie fell on Bruce."  A handsome grin finished off the fine tale.

            Jotting some notes on a legal pad the Principal raised his head, stern expression sweeping over his features.  He paused a minute and then spoke, "Now, Trixie, Jenny, you do realize that it was against the school rules to be up in that tree…"

            The two small children sullenly nodded.

            "And, it's only fair that I punish you for breaking the school rules.  As for falling on Bruce, that was only an accident caused by a very old tree.  I'm sorry that a newcomer had to have a concussion on his first day in but, things like these happen," He nodded grimly, "Now, gentlemen, I need to have a talk with these ladies and their parents over the phone.  Why don't you check on Bruce?"  And on obtaining a pass, the five young men exited the office and made their way to the Nurses suite.

            "Hey…is the death penalty legal in this state?"

            " I really dunno Fritz…why are ya askin-wait, you're not sayin' that Jen and Trix might _die_ because of this?"

            "Sure Oliver, why not?  Think about it.  If they killed Bruce, there's a chance that they might be heavily prosecuted, and either stuck in prison and shovel rocks the rest of their life or get 'the chair'."  

            Oliver slowed down as the 'Clan' wandered through the hallways, turning the thought over in his mind.  Both his younger sisters could and probably would die of this if Bruce were dead, accident or not…

            The other four boys followed, slowing to walk beside their worried comrade.

            "Hey, Fritz was just kiddin'…weren't ya Fritz?"  Jack hintingly nudged the 4-eyed youth.

            "Nah, I wasn't…"  And upon realizing their hints he corrected himself, "Oooh…yeah, right.  I was just kidding Ol!  Ha ha!  Great joke, huh?"

            Eddie howled with laughter and slapped his knee.

            "It's not that funny Eddie…"  Howard rolled his eyes.

            "Hey, leave him alone Howard…" Jack defended.

            "Well he's getting annoyin…"  The blonde youth glared at the brown-haired youngster.

            "Yeah, well get used to it 'cause he ain't changing…"

            Amidst the conversation, Jared, the voice of reason, spoke up, "Hey, Ol, let's see if Bruce is dead or not first before guesses are made.  Sound good?" 

His scrunched up face relaxed, "Yeah…that sounds real good Jared…" He thoughtfully nodded at Jared, "Thanks…"

"No problem, that's what I'm here for."

            "Now, let's go see Bruce."  Oliver grinned, quickening his pace as the other's soon followed.

            Yet, the laughter continued to echo through the halls.

            "You know what, you're right Howard, it's not _that_ funnie Eddie…" Jack harped.

            Led by the head nurse, they arrived into Bruce's holding room. He was absentmindedly starring at the ceiling, propped up by many pillows.  He held an ice bag to his forehead where an enormous lump had formed, thanks to Trixie and her branch.

            "Bruce!  You're not dead!," The friendly blonde ran over to the 'new kid' and examined his lump.  Whistling, he exclaimed, "That's quite an egg ya got there!  How do ya feel?"

            "Alright…"  He groggily stated and glanced past Ollie to the rest of the group.

"Hey Bruce!"  The other three chimed.

"OINK!" As the fourth odd-ball sounded.

Bruce grinned and shook his head, "_No way to explain him!_"  He chuckled in response to Eddie's unusual, but humorous greeting.

"Hey…Bruce…It's a shame ya had ta miss gym class!  Eddie here is a riot…  Guess why they don't allow anyone to climb the ropes no more?  Well, ya see Eddie's mom had just bought this huge bucket o' lard…"

And so, story time began…

            "All comfortable Master Bruce?"

            "Yes, thank you Alfred…"  The raven-haired lad smiled up at his Butler, nuzzling into the surrounding pillows.  Things had improved dramatically, especially after Bruce's new-found friends arrived.  They had liberally relayed hilarious stories that kept the injured boy laughing till tears streamed down his cheeks.  That was when Alfred, upon hearing about the incident, hastily arrived, retrieving Bruce. He brought him back home where, Alfred, the epitome of a father, made sure his surrogate son was comfortable.   Bruce was placed in front of the television on the large couch in the spacious, isolated study.  He was nestled in between soft, couch cushions, numerous pillows and a large comforter.  Sighing contently as Alfred made his way over to Bruce, He was handed a bowl of ice cream. 

            "Here you are Master Bruce.  Chocolate, just as you requested."

            A wide grin spread on the youth's face as he received the bowl.  With an energetic "Thanks" and a lift of the spoon, he devoured the contents in minutes.

            The former British Intelligence Agent shook his head and muttered something about "a stomach ache" as he took the soiled bowl and walked out.

            The young boy smiled as he sunk back into the bliss.  Closing his eyes, he smiled and pondered the events of the day, drifting into unconsciousness.

            A gentle nudge and two spoken words woke Bruce from his encounter with Sleep.  

            "Master Bruce?"

            Wearily rubbing his eyes, he met Alfred's sympathetic gaze and greeted him, "Hi Alfred."  He groggily beamed.

            "Sir, a lady named Mrs. Sheif is here to see you.  I believe you know her three children…one of their name's is Oliver…"

            In the meantime certain selected individuals of the Sheif family, sat on their each individual cushion in the beautifully decorated living room.  Oliver was among the group, along with Trixie, Jenny and their mother, Mrs. Sheif.  She was a very beautiful lady with her long brown hair let loose, a small, round face and green eyes.   

            "Now, Trixie, when we see Bruce, I want you to apologize, understood?"

            "Yes, mama…"

            Oliver snickered.

            "And what's so funny to you Ollie?"  Trixie angrily retorted.

            "That you're in trou-u-uble!"  He sang.

            "Children, quit it!  If I have to say that again, you'll get the wrath of your mother down upon you both!"

            "I already have that…"  The brunette muttered.

            "Hmm?  Did you say something Trix?"  Her mother menacingly asked.

            "Nope!"  She curtly answered.

            Upon Alfred's presence in the room, their conversation ceased, "Master Bruce will see you know.  If you'll follow me."

            All nodded and obeyed the Butler's directions.

            "Master Bruce, here are Mrs. Sheif and your friends from school."  Alfred led them into the study, "I must be attending to the dishes.  Good day to you."  He bowed and left to attend to the soiled dishware.

"Heya Bruce!  Lookie here!  Ya get hassled by me once more!  'Cept this time, I got tag-alongs!"  Oliver rushed in and bounded onto the couch he occupied.

            "Oliver!  Don't hassle the boy!"  A tall, thin, lady harped, "Now, come here but, apologize first!"

            Oliver, obeying his mother, blushed and muttered, "Sorry Bruce…"

            Sliding one arm around the stout boy, which was gently pushed away, Mrs. Sheif stated their business in coming, "I'm sorry to come so late but, after I had heard what my daughter, Trixie did and didn't apologize for it, I was furious.  So, I decided to come right over and have her apologize because I _know_ she's very sorry…"  She pushed the brunette forward as her moral support, Jenny, slipped behind her mother.

            "Hiya…,"  She peeped, "I'm real sorry about fallin' on you Bruce…I never mean't to do that cause me and Jenny were just tryin' ta see the bird's nest up in the tree…but, you didn't need to know that."  She cleared her throat; "Anyway, I am _real_ sorry and hope that I didn't inflict any permanent damage 'cause I'd feel just awful if I did.  I'd feel so awful that I'd lend myself to you ta be your maid!  I'd help out your Butler around the house…although I don't know if I'd be so good…"  She glanced up at Bruce, searching for any emotion on his handsome face.  What she found relieved her immensely for, there sat smiling a warm smile of forgiveness.

            "It's ok.  I'm feeling better and I think my lump has gone down…say, I never did catch your name…"

            "It's Trixie!"  Oliver stepped in.

            "Let your sister answer for herself Oliver!  It's her name!"

            A puzzled expression crossed the heir's face.  Had he heard Ollie right?  

"Tripsy?"  He questioned.

            A chorus of giggles followed the quiery, "Nah Bruce, it's Trixie but, that is a' real nice nick-name for little Trixie here!"  The older sibling teased, "I like that. Tripsy. 'Cause it captures the true essence of ya, always fallin' over stuff and hittin' doors…I never did understand how ya lived to be this old…"

            "I like it…"  Jenny softly spoke for the first time during their visit.

            The newly-named child blushed, "Yeah, I guess I do too…"

            Glancing at the grandfather clock inside the room, Mrs. Sheif spoke, "Well, I think that we best be going…you've got a long day tomorrow Trix and Jen, washing windows and cleaning floors."  She winked at Bruce, "That's one of the good things about Wilson's, instead of having detentions and suspensions, they have the children help out with the staff.  Very nice!  Teaches them hard work!"

            The two girls groaned.

            "Now, come along children, dinner's waiting for us at home!"  Mrs. Sheif waved as she stepped into the hallway.

            "I can always have Alfred take you out, Mrs. Sheif…" Bruce offered.

            "Nah, it's alright.  I've wandered through plenty of mansions before and I'm sure this one's no different.  I'll find it out!  And if I can't, I'll holler for help.  Then you can send Mr. Alfred."  She laughed and led her little flock of chicks out of the room.

            "Cya Bruce!"  Ollie waved and ran after his mother.

            "Bye Bruce, hope that you feel better!"  Trixie, imitating her brother, waved and galloped after the two elders.

            "Bye…hey!  Wait for me…"  Jenny timidly muttered and hurriedly caught up with the three.

            He sunk into his pillows and smiled.  He liked Mrs. Sheif…she reminded her of his mother…and Trixie seemed quite interesting.  As for Jenny, she was…cute…in her own timid little way.  He turned his head towards the muted television.  Something told him that be-friending this people would prove to be exciting.


	4. A Joyous Reunion

_A/N: Ah, yes, I want to thank you Casity, for the advice that you said in your review of my other story, "If You Give a Boy a Camera!" I really appreciate it! I'm taking it and am going to continue writing other stories but, none that involves oodles of chapters like this one!  You know, like little short tales!  Thanks again!!   Anywayz, what else…crackers are really yummy…!  Now go read the story!   _

**No Escape****:**

**_A Joyous Reunion:_**

****

            Bruce idly drummed his fingers against the armrest as he peered through the tinted glass.  Turning his head, he rolled up his sleeve and glanced at his watch.  5:30…how much longer would this take?

To clear up some confusion, the millionaire's Rolls Royce rested in traffic sandwiched between a gray cattilac and a Dunkin Donuts Van.  Unfortunately, that's how Bruce Wayne had spent the first hour of his freedom on that special Friday night and it seemed, to him, his automobile was no further along then when it first started out.

            Without warning, Bruce's leg began to impatiently bounce as he scanned the outside world.  "Great…I just _love_ rush hour…" He grumbled and slid a hand through his raven hair.

            Alfred, who had refrained from conversing throughout the ordeal, suddenly spoke up, "Sir, you had best put all that energy to better use than grumbling.  Try having more patience," He examined his surrogate son through the rearview mirror, "Your engagement with Ms. Sheif is not until 7 and it currently is 5:33.  You will have plenty of time, after we pass this mess, to change and arrive at the restaurant.  That is, unless you decide on becoming fickle with what you wear…"  The Butler once again shifted his gaze frontwards as the line of assorted automobiles slowly began to roll forward.

The Dark Knight's alter-ego turned quite a nice shade of red in response to Alfred's remark.  Of course he realized that time would be of no hassle to complete the necessary tasks, arriving at his rendezvous with time to spare.  But, he yearned to be out of this sluggish situation and in the restaurant _now_.  

            He resumed his current hobby of peeking out the window, glimpsing into the Catty beside him.  Two children, both in the back seat, were playfully wrestling with one another.  The smaller child was clung to the larger child's leg as he swung it around.  Soon, the small child let go and held his head in his hands as if to steady the world around him.  The mother, either choosing to ignore or being that oblivious, intently stared forward and bobbed her head to the unheard music in the car.  Resuming their battle, the larger child dropkicked the younger as the car bounced in return to the sudden display of force.  Intently watching, Bruce smirked and stated, "You know what Alfred…you're right.  I'll try to have more patience…"

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            Upon entering home, Bruce and Alfred were unexpectedly greeted by two entities instead of the usual one.  Dick Grayson was seated on the edge of the large, living room couch, head resting in hands, gazing into that attention-absorbing box.  Beside Dick sat the usual, Tim Drake, curled up in a ball, back leaning against the armrest.  Obviously uninterested in what was showing, he had the daily newspaper in one hand and a pencil in the other.  He would occasionally scribble something and snicker at what the graphite on the paper produced.   

"Good evening Sirs.  Master Dick, what an unexpected surprise."  Was Alfred's joyful greeting as he removed Bruce's coat.

"Tim, Dick."  The Breadwinner nodded as he proceeded up the grand staircase. 

Tim looked up from his newspaper, "Oh, hi Alfred!  Heya Bruce!  Hot date tonight?"

"Yes, something like that."  Bruce slinked into the upper hallway, avoiding a detailed explanation of his "hot date." 

"Oh, hey Bruce…Alfred…yeah…I decided…to just come…"  Dick absently greeted and waved a hand, eyes never leaving the television.

"Meaning Barbara turned him down for a date."  Tim smirked.

"At least I can get a date small fry…"

"Then why aren't you on one now?"

Dick's features scrunched into a glare, eyes still not leaving the panel.

"I wonder what could be holding Master Grayson's interest…"  The Butler hung up the given coat and stepped behind the couch.

"It's some stupid documentary on The WMBA."

"Ah…" The aged Butler nodded.

"If you call this stupid then what do you call that garbage you watch?" Dick mumbled.

"Art!"

"Whatever…"  

Alfred inwardly smiled at the two, "Well, I should go start dinner…oh, Master Tim, Master Bruce might like to have his newspaper back."  The Butler extended a hand. 

"Ah…"  Tim chuckled, "yeah…"  He gave the extended hand what it desired and sighed.  

"Thank you."  Alfred nodded and made his way into the kitchen.

Poor Tim, now he had no form of entertainment.  He was just about to give that other photograph of the Mayor a mustache too!  He began to chew on the pencil, formulating and deducing as unoccupied minds have a tendency to do.  He was about to give up all hope of devising something worthwhile until he viewed Dick and then his pencil.  And then Dick.  And then his pencil.  And then Dick.  And then his pencil.  A grin spread upon his boyish face as boredom suddenly left the small youth.

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            The Embassy Suites was a beautiful display with its two, modest fountains liberally flowing outside the glass doorways.  Outside stood two, handsome bell boys neatly dressed in their usual costume of a red jacket, black pants and a little, bell boy hat.  It was unbelievably hectic that particular night for the building was to contain two of the most well-known faces in Gotham City.  That of Bruce Wayne and the rock-star Terry McGottart.  Both had grown up in Gotham and were due to appear at 7 sharp.  It was 6:55 at that precise moment and needless to say, the managers stress levels rose as the finishing touches were made, orders were barked and jobs fulfilled. 

Terry McGottart was the first to arrive in his eccentric yet glorious splendor.  As his hot-pink limo pulled up, the bellboy swung the door open and out popped the familiar face clad in a purple tuxedo, complete with frills.  His hair was carelessly thrown about as if it had been through a whirlwind while his shoes were a very, bright orange.  Undeniably, he was quite an interesting sight!

And what does Terry McGottart have to do with this tale?  Legal purposes…

            Luckily for Bruce, when his traditional Rolls Royce parked in front of the building, a good chunk of the reporters had followed the previous-arrived rock-star.

"Not much press to bother you tonight, Master Bruce."  Alfred whispered as he finished opening the car door for the celebrity. 

            "Yes, I know, Thank you Alfred."  He murmured back and stepped onto the red carpet, squinting as a few flashes greeted him.  Ah yes…he forgot about the camera's.  Reporters and cameras…can't have one without the other.  But, that was all unimportant now for he was going to see _her_.  That's what this was all about.  Not the press, not the popularity, but her.  

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------    

            Once he escorted himself inside the hotel's reserved, private, elegant dining room, he was ushered to a table and handed a menu.  He thanked the waiter and glanced around.  Where was she?  He sighed and entertained himself by figuring out his first course.

            Swiftly, a pair of hands covered his eyes, "Guess who stranger?"  It teased.

            Bruce grinned and gently pried the hands off, turning to view his long-awaited guest.

            She was still as he remembered, with minor differences.  Her hair was still as brown, eyes still as blue, figure still well-kept and face still as beautiful.  She was clad in a modest suit that consisted of black pants with a purple top and stylish black flats.

            "Are you going to gawk like that all night?  Of course I know I'm sexy!  You don't have to tell me that."  She laughed at her own joke and took her seat beside him.

            "You cut your hair," He inspected the short, mop that lay on her head,  "I thought you said you wanted to let it gr-"

            "Grow till I could wear it as an outfit,"  She interrupted, "I know.  It finally got long enough and I hated it!  It was so hot, sticky and disgusting.  I tripped over it constantly and spent all my money on shampoo!  So, one day I decided to get it hacked off and that's just what I did!"  She timidly peeked at him, "Do you like it?"

            "Yeah, I do.  It looks good on you."  Smiling at her, he stated, "It's been a long time…"

            "Too long, Brucey, too long!"

            "It's really nice to hear someone call me that.  It's either Master Bruce, Mr. Wayne or Bruce, never Brucey,"  A playful glint entered his eyes as his humor poked out from behind that cold exterior, "But, you do realize that I'm being very lenient letting you call me that…"  

            "Ooooh, that's right.  What if the reporters catch wind of your little pet name!  The world will come to an end!"

            "Yes, so best be careful…or I _will_ have to kill you…"  He shook an index finger at the small woman.  It had always been as if Trixie was there for the sole purpose of relaxing Bruce, bringing out his humorous side.  Yes, Bruce did have a humorous side and Trixie was very well acquainted with it. 

            "You keep shaking your finger like that and I'm going to bite it…"

            "Excuse me love but, is this the 'private' party?"  McGottart interrupted as he stuck his head through the door, "Ah, why yes it is!  Bruce Wayne wouldn't be here if it weren't!"  He popped into the room, agents and a few reporters, waving their press passes, close on his heels.

            "Great…"  Mr. Wayne forced a smile.  Just what he needed, reporters and a social rock-star.

            Trixie leaned over the table and murmured into Bruce's ear, "Just peachy…my top half looks exactly like McGottart's, down to the very color.  That's just not right…"  

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            "Lemme go…please?"

            "Heh…keep trying…"

            "I'll give you my…uhm…my bike?"

            "Already have one, thanks…"

            Alfred removed his coat and laid eyes on the odd situation which he found the two youths, upon entering the Wayne Mansion.  The retired Robin was as Alfred left him, head in palms, absorbed into the television in front of him, the only difference was he was seated upon Tim, on the floor.  Tim, laying underneath of Dick's rear-end had a very uncomfortable and helpless expression plastered on his features as he occasionally fought to get away.  The Butler shook his head and taking one step forward, heard a cracking sound.  He lifted up his shoe and saw what seemed to be the end of a pencil, eraser still intact.  In fact, a pile of discarded, broken pencil pieces were spread out across the carpet and...on Dick's clothing?  Deciding it better not to inquire, the Butler continued to walk into the living room, past the two bodies.

            "Alfred!  A little help?"

            Halting in his tracks, he turned to the helpless lad, "I will only help once you have picked up your mess,"  And then resuming his pace, he headed out of the room.

            "Keep trying Timmy.  Alfred there sees that you got yourself into this on your own."

            "Grr…don't call me that!  It was the pencils and the boringness!  I swear it!"  He struggled under the older youths weight.

            "Yeah sure, that's what all little boys who poke the hell outta their peers say.  You're lucky I didn't smash you like your pencil-friend over there.  So, get comfortable."

            "That's what you said an hour ago…"

            "And I say it once more, get comfortable."

            He gasped, "Ah…can't…breath…all…going…black…" And then fainted.

            Dick mockingly sighed and bounced on Tim, forcing air out of the lad.

            "Gack!"  He breathed.

            "See, all fixed…breathe better now?"  Dick smirked, eyes still glued to that big screen television.

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            It had been a wonderful evening as far as Bruce Wayne's standards.  Conveniently, the press and agents had much more interest in the Rock-Star then the Millionaire so; they left Bruce and his lady friend alone for the most part. He had wonderful meal full of laughter and "catching up" that took place.  During the meal, he had forgotten how good it was to be with Trixie.  Not only had her outside appearance failed to change, but her attitude as well.  Once again, Bruce had fallen back in love with the young girl who had left him so many years ago. 

After the plates were cleared, the two had taken up a walk through the city.  The lights were wonderfully brilliant as a glorious moon and stars greeted the couple during their stroll.  Soon, they found themselves strolling through Gotham Park, enjoying their surroundings.  

            "Wow…the city is really beautiful…I've forgotten what Gotham looked like at night…"  Trixie breathed as she gazed at the familiar sights surrounding her.  She twirled around in the moonlight, all the while gazing above.

            "Mmmhmm…"  Bruce nodded, staring at the figure before him.  An unknowing grin snuck upon his face.

            "What?"  She stopped underneath a lamp post, tilting her head.

            Shaking his head, he replied, "Nothing…Nothing at all."  He gave her his million-dollar smile as reassurance.

She shrugged, "Alright," Walking over to him, she took his arm, "So, where to Brucey?  Robbing some banks?  Popping out of trash cans as an old couple walks by, just for the fun of it? Or, my favorite, stealing candy from a few babies?  Hm?"

"Hmm…tough choice…so much havoc to cause in this city…so little time."

"Yeah, you must have such a hard time resisting the temptation!  I don't know how we all did way back 

when!  But, make a choice soon because I've got a busy day tomorrow and should be back catching some z's real soon."

"So soon?"  He glanced at his watch and frowned.  

"Yeah, gotta go family hopping.  Big family equals Biiiig family visiting when you go visit.  Sometimes I 

wonder how I remember them all!  And then I got some other stuff to take care of…but, I do hope that we can do this again."  She stared up at him with an expression she had never showed her long-term friend.  That of love.

Could this be true?  Was she actually agreeing to a date?  She had never, in the past, agreed or even showed the want to further their friendship.  In fact, whenever he tried she would always back off. 

Taken aback by this sudden offer, his heart pounded and he dumbfoundedly muttered a "yes" as he gave the starry-eyed girl a dazed grin.

"Good, you know Bruce…I've actually really missed you over the last few years and…I just wanted to 

say that I'm sorry for being so stubbon be-"

"Shh…no need to apologize." He gently brushed a short, strand of brown hair from her forehead, 

tucking it behind her ear.

Giving his arm a squeeze, she beamed up at the playboy.  

Words were spoken after that and conversation was made but, none were as important as those spoke 

in that very spot, underneath the shelter of the lamp light.  As the night progressed, the couple found themselves outside the designated hotel room as a small, simple kiss was shared between the two in the quiet of the hallway. A spark was kindled in one body, the other, an old flame burned brighter.  And soon, both the love-struck gentleman and gentlewoman stumbled into their humble abodes light-hearted and clear-eyed.

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	5. The Splendor of Youth

A/N: Yes, I'm back…I'm not dead!  Sorry it took me so long to get this out…My dern good excuses are, my computer was acting screwy(poor thing…) and I had a serious case of the much dreaded Brain-Dead Syndrome…*ahem* So…anywyaz, shoo!  Go read!

_No Escape__:_

The Splendor of Youth 

Bruce sat at the long, dining room table, musing over his steaming cup of coffee.  The morning sun crept through the window and into the large room.  He'd have to leave for work in a bit but, for right now, he could occupy his last minutes deep in thought.  He recalled not only the events of the last week, which included courting Ms. Sheif, but all throughout his Middle and High School years.  The laughs he had, the sorrow, he remembered it all.  "_I remember when I first fell in love with her_…"

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            All the living room preparations were in their respective places.  Colored Banners lined the walls; balloons covered the high ceiling as confetti laid itself in small, scattered piles along the floor.  Yes, it was a mother's nightmare no matter how festive it appeared to be.   

            "Come back here Master Bruce!  You're not quite dressed yet!"  A British accented voice hollered from the upstairs hallway as a beaming, raven-haired youth galloped down the living room grand staircase.  He had on a plain, green, sweater vest, with a white, turtleneck undershirt.  His dark, blue pants finished off the outfit.  What could he possibly be missing in his attire?

            "But, Alfred!  They're here!  They're here!"

            The Butler hastily but, maintaining his composure, made his way down the steps, dark-blue bow-tie in hand, "Yes, they are Sir but you must finish dressing.  Here, put this on at once."

            "But-"

            "At once."

            "Oh…"  Bruce sighed and, grudgingly taking the dreaded bow-tie, fastening it onto his collar.

            "Good.  You look like a model gentleman.  Now, I will go let the guests in." Satisfied with his surrogate's son attire, Alfred made his way over to the front door to usher the arriving people into the living room.

            "I don't wanna be a model gentleman…at least not for today…it's my birthday and I'm 14…" He grumbled as he pulled at the loathed bow-tie,  "I look like a nerd…" And he sat down onto the long, couch, awaiting his party guests.

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            "Heya Bruce!  We're here!  So ya don't need ta be worryin' or nothin'," Oliver raced into the living room, "We brought the whole family too!" 

            "You didn't dump them?"  Bruce bolted up off the couch, standing up to greet his best friend.

            "Ha! Nah, I decided to keep them!"  He caught a glimpse of Bruce's neck attire, "Woo boy!  That bow-tie looks horri-bley on ya Bruce!"

"Well, that tie doesn't look any better Ollie."

"Yeah, ya got me there," He embarrassingly adjusted his tie, "Guess both our guardians got us…but, I have ta say, my 

tie looks much better than that bow-tie!"

"Yeah, you're probably right but, I haven't had time to look at myself in a mirror or anything and if I take it off, Alfred 

will have a cow…"

            "So, then we're both stuck 'cause my mom will woop me good!  So, we'll both look nerdy together!  Oh, by the way, we got ya some good stuff for ya!  This one's from me!  Where should I put it?"

            "That's mine too!  Ollie!"

            "And mine…" 

            Bruce's grin grew to an unimaginable length as two familiar girls made their way into the living room.

            "Happy birthday Bruce!"  Trixie greeted as she made her way into the living room.  She was clad in a long, plain, blue dress, her shoulder-length hair was pulled back in a pony-tail and on her feet, she wore very fashionable Mary Janes.  Her newly-acquired glasses were an unfamiliarity to everyone's eyes but, they accented her face very well.  Bruce's cheeks grew hot and for a few seconds he lost his composure for, Bruce had an enormous crush on his best friends younger sister.  Of course, Bruce made sure of the crushes inexistence in the minds of his fellow people.

            "Yes, happy birthday…"  Trixie's shy companion meekly spoke from behind her sister.  Jenny wore the same simplicity as Trixie but, her dress was a burgundy red and her long hair was let loose, making a very pretty sight.  They both took their seats on their ideal couches and chattered while they waited for the rest of the guests to join them.

            Before this story continues, let some confusion that may have accumulated about the Sheif's be removed.  Due to a car accident while she was young, Mrs. Anne Sheif was unable to have children.  Her husband, Mr. Daniel Sheif knew about her predicament and proposed that, after the marry, they adopt.  So, they followed through with their plans.  After 7 years of marital bliss, they adopted a bouncing, baby boy from China and named him Richard.  He is the oldest Sheif boy.  Still, Mr. and Mrs. Sheif wanted many more children but, financial problems hindered them from adopting their desired amount.  That was until Mr. Sheif was bumped up to the CEO of his long-employing company by an untimely death.  But, this required an incredible move from their own small town, to Gotham.  

With much sorrow, the move was made but with the large increase in the income, they managed to buy a spacious mansion among the Gotham outskirts and could now adopt and support all the children they desired.  After Richard, who was 4 by this time, came Rashin, an Indian girl.  Then, one year later, came Tony.  6 years after the 3 previous adopted Sheif children, came the well-known Oliver, as a newborn and, in that same year came Trixie.  She was 5 months younger than Oliver.  After those two were adopted, Jenny, who was the same age as Oliver and Trixie, came.  All of these three were in the stage known as "The Terrible Two's."  Oh what sleepless nights Mrs. Sheif had who, then, became infatuated with caffeine!  5 years after the three "triplets" so they were called, were admitted into the Sheif's residence, came Cong from China.  Then, 4 years later, Delilah came to join the family as a newborn.  And thus concludes the history of the Sheif family.  As head-spinning as it may be, it is quite an interesting family considering that their ethnic diversity is immense and the love they share for each other is incredible.

Now, to return to the party, once the large family was ushered in, all of which everyone but the 2 eldest attended, the other guests soon arrived.  Among them was the all-familiar group that Bruce be-friended his first day at Wilson's.  Eddie, of course, arrived first, clashing in a blue top and brown pants.  He had sprouted up and, at 13, was well over the heads of the other boys.  Although he had grown up physically, mentally, he maintained the same weird personality he was born with for when told of his clash he just grinned and stated "brown and blue make him look suave."  

Howard came in a few minutes after Eddie's arrival and had a sour look mounted upon his features that was recognized exactly as he stepped in. Of course, it was very evident of his sullen demeanor because his mother and abundant amount of sister's had refused to let him attend the party unless he dressed in a full tuxedo.  Afterall, it _was_ Bruce Wayne, the heir to millions, who was throwing this party.  It was quite a sight to see all those casual attire clothes and then poor Howard, dressed in that ridiculous tuxedo.  

"I look like a penguin." He grumbled and then, Eddie, using his refined comforting skills, began to waddle and gobble as a fit of laughter was sent up by the brown-haired youths antics.  That shone some light on the embarrassing situation and Howard's mood improved tremendously due to Eddie's action and Alfred stating that he could remove his coat and bow-tie.

Jared and Jack arrived together in the same fashion: suave and debonair.  Both had grown tremendously handsome in both personality and looks and were known as a "lady killer."  To finish of the regularly known group, Fritz showed up with those same coke-bottle glasses and a concealed bundle of flowers for the young lady he was trying to win over.  His personality was the same but, since he had moved up to the 8th grade, a new word existed for it.  Nerd.  As for his height, he hadn't grown much either.  He was a dwarf and was most likely going to stay one but, that had no effect on him for, no matter how hard the boys teased him, he would shrug it off and remark, "Yeah, so what if I am?  At least hitting ceilings are the least of my worry!"  His remark would then cause a fist full of snickers as many of the taller fellows blushed tremendously.

Fritz's arrival signaled the end to the guest list, and that meant the party could officially begin.  A game of musical chairs was at once initiated before the meal in the dining hall.  

"So, how many chairs are you planning on having Bruce?"  The auburn-headed Jack queried as him, Bruce and Jared went out into the hallway closet to retrieve the needed chairs.

"I'm thinking about…15!"  

"Sounds good!"

"Yeah, it does.  So Bruce, after how many times I've been into this house of yours, I'll never get used to how huge it is.  I could get lost right now!"

"You got that right Jared.  How in the world do you know where you're going?"

"Aw, come on guys,"  He handed 2 chairs to each of the youths, "It's not _that_ bad.  Besides, I don't have any siblings so, I'd mostly entertain myself by wandering the hallways.  I'd try to pop out and surprise Alfred but, for some reason, I never could…Anyway, these hallways aren't that hard to learn!"  He shook his head and led the group back into the living room, "Well, let's get these chairs back in and get some more help.  We're gonna need it!"

--------------------------------------------------------------

            Meanwhile, Jenny had some much-needed news to clue Trixie into and, to find some privacy, they had declared that nature had called and excused themselves from the room.  Once they reached the safety of the bathroom walls, all 4 of them, the beautiful girl hastily stated, "He gave me flowers Trixie!  Flowers…"  She was leaned against the wall as Trixie was seated on the toilet seat,  "See!  Look!"  And out from her small purse she produced a beautiful, small bouquet of wild flowers.

            Trixie raised an eyebrow, "They're lovely but, who gave them to you?"

            "You promise you won't tell anyone?"

            "Yes."

            "Ok, see, Fritz did…"  She blushed furiously.

            "…wait…"  The brunette shook her head trying to comprehend the whole situation, "Fritz?  As in _the_ Fritz we know?  Fritz Garlin, Fritz?"

            Jenny nodded, "I know it seems all of a sudden but, I've always liked him and, he's always liked me…he asked me to go on a date with him next Saturday…and I said yes…I'm sorry I never told you but, I didn't think you'd like to hear about my silly crushes…" She peered through her dark locks at her best friend.

            Trixie's face scrunched up into a number of emotions, 3 of which were the most evident.  Anger, confusion and betrayal.  She began to play with her bracelet, portraying how deep in thought she was, while she intently stared at the tiles on the bathroom floor.  A tense silence lingered in the air for a few minutes.

            "Uhm…any comments about this…Trixie?"  She squeaked, filling in for the lack of sound.  The silence was nerve wracking to the beautiful, dark skinned girl.

            A long pause was given before Trixie spoke her first words, "I'm sorry Jen.  I'm just…I guess…I never realized how old we really were and now with you dating.  The reality just hit me hard that we're _that_ old…"

            "Are you mad at me…?"

            Trixie grinned, "Oh please Jen!  I could never ever be mad at you!  You're far too sweet for that!" She got up and embraced her younger sister.

            "Good, I'm glad…"  Jenny smiled as their hug broke.

            "Me too!"  The older sibling looked at her younger sibling's watch, "Oh…wow Jen, we've spent enough time in here!  We had better get back to the party before they send a search team out for us!"

--------------------------------------------------

            Once the two girls had entered the living room, they found the chairs all set and everyone impatiently waiting for their arrival.

            "Man, how long do ya girls take?  Fall in or somethin'?"

            "Do we _look_ wet Ollie?"  His brunette sister retorted, "We're back now!  So, let's get this game started!"  She grabbed Jenny's wrist and bolted for a seat, "I GET THIS ONE!"  She flopped into a chair, flinging her dark-haired companion into the one next to her.  That started off the race as all the children stampeded for their choice seat.  Once the chairs were filled, the game began with Mrs. Sheif manning the stereo.  

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            After an hour of the much-enjoyed musical chairs, the 15 children were reduced to 2, Trixie and Bruce.  Both had fought valiantly for their coveted spots and now were up against each other.  The children had each been separated into two cheerleading groups.  The Trixie supporters, and The Girl Bashers, as they named themselves.  If it hasn't already been guessed, The Girl Bashers were rooting for the Birthday boy.  

            "C'mon Bruce!  Ya gotta beat her!"  Ollie supported.

            "Yeah Bruce!  Show her that guys rock!"  Jared stated.  

            "SIT ON HER AND SQUISH HER!"   Eddie's unusual encouragement stood out from the rest of the incoherent yells.

            "Tixie…come an' beat da boy…"  The youngest Sheif girl, Delilah called out.

            "Yeah Trixie, do your best!"  Jenny timidly cheered.

            "You're going down Bruce!  And I mean waaaaaaaay down!"  The brunette smirked, as she readied herself into a running position.  Both stood on opposite sides of the desired chair.

            "We'll see about that Trixie…"  The Wayne boy mumbled as he prepared for the music to start.

            Once the music started, everyone was silenced and the two competitors began to pace in a circle, eyes never leaving the incredibly sought after object.  Suddenly, the music stopped and both teenagers bolted for the chair while all held their breath only to see…

            Bruce seated in the chair with Trixie on his lap!  The Girl Bashers broke into a riot of cheers as The Trixie Supporters sighed and grumbled.

            Bruce's smile spread as he stared up at Trixie.

            "Not fair Wayne!"  She stuck out her tongue as she tried to push him off the chair.

            "Heh…I won fair and square Trix!  There's nothin' you can do about it," he pushed her back. He fought to maintain his spot.  She continued to try to wrestle him out of his seat.  This clash continued until Bruce, with his arms wrapped around the battling girl, gazed up at the brunette, suddenly realizing how incredibly close he was to her.  His heart sped up and as her body rubbed against his, a blush impulsively crept across his face.  She was incredibly warm and her body was so tiny.  His whole frame relaxed as he pulled his arms tighter around her.  How calming it felt…how natural…  That's when Bruce experienced a new feeling.  It was an even more intense ache than he had ever received yet, it made him feel good...infact, it made his spirits soar higher than they had ever been.  What was this new feeling?  Was it…love?  Yes, it must be!  So, this was what love felt like…

The clash soon found the two young people on the floor due to Trixie's horrible balance and her tendency to grab onto the nearest item when in mid-fall.  Both of the two young individual's broke into a fit of laughter as they struggled to get off their backs and back onto their feet. 

"You're killin' me Bruce!  Argh!  So heavy!"

Bruce just smiled back, laughing and staring into her eyes. He was imagining the future yet to come.  One where they were together.  He was in the middle of their first date when he was rudely awakened by a jerking of his arm and a familiar voice yelling,  "Bruce, you're gonna' kill my sister!  Get offa her!" 

------------------------------------------

            After the guests and the Birthday boy were ushered into the large dining hall, dinner was served.

            "Mmmm-mmmm Bruce, Alfred's a great cook!"  Stated Oliver's older brother, Tony.  Tony's voice hushed into a whisper as he questioned, "Can I borrow him?  He's so much better than my mom, it's not funny…"

            "I heard that Tony!"

            "What'd I say?"

            "Don't play stupid with me!  You know exactly what you said!"

            "Darn…"  He returned to his meal, signaling his mother's victory and correctness.

            "Hey waiter!  There's a fly in mah soup!  Mmmm…boy!  Is it tasty!"

            "That's just gross Eddie!  Please!  We're eating!"

            "Ok mum dear!"

            "I'm not your mom…"  Howard growled, "And if I was, I'd have already had numerous mental breakdowns and have already thrown you in a trashcan…"

            "Howard!"  Mrs. Sheif scolded.

            "Whatever you say, sweetums!"  Eddie batted his eyelashes, Howard's words having no affect.

            "…I'm _not_ a sweetums…" Howard retorted through gritted teeth, clenching his fists.

            "Hey, Howard, let it go.  He's trying to annoy you…" Jared coolly stated in between bites.

            "Yeah, How, he's just tryin' ta get ta ya…Like Jared says, let it go."  The other blonde boy encouraged.

            The encouragement worked like magic for Howard's first unclenched and he relaxed back into his chair, granting himself a few heavy sighs.  

            "Here.  Have some of my bread.  I'm defiantly not going to eat all of this!"  Fritz spoke as he handed Howard a huge piece of his loaf of bread.

            "Thanks Fritz."  Howard peered across the table, realizing the butter was near his instigator, "_Eddie_, can you _please_ pass the butter…?"

            The brown-haired boy squeezed his face together, looking much like he ate a lemon, and smacked his lips together. "Give a kiss first, honey bunches of oats!"

            "That's it!"  Howard threw himself out of his chair, "I'm gonna throw you out the window!"

            "No!  Howard!  Sit down!  Oh!  Eddie!  Sit!"  Mrs. Sheif brokenly ordered.

            The instigator's voice flew an octave higher as he batted his eyelashes once more, "Please don't eat me, Snookums!  Remember your indigestion!"

            "I'M GOING TO KILL YOU EDDIE!"

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

The evening finished off with some re-arranged seating, cake, presents and goodie-bags.  The "Clan" boys had been invited to sleep over which, the parental consent bent in their favor and all 5 were arranged to sleep in the isolated Study.  The remaints of the Sheif family made their goodbye's, exited the mansion and began to arrange their own seating as they piled into their large car.  

            "Well, Bruce, I'll be seein' ya at school on Monday…"  Trixie graciously gave Bruce, who was to see them off, an unexpected hug.  Grinning as she waved, she smushed into the car, shutting the door behind her.  With the last door shut, the car was immediately off on its short, drive home.  The "Clan" boys were lingering behind Bruce on the steps to the Wayne Mansion, frantically waving their goodbye's.

            "Bye Trixie…"  Bruce slowly waved as a broad smile plastered itself onto his features and a blush crept up onto his face.

            Oliver, watching the interaction between his sister and best friend, frowned.  

            "I GET THE COUCH!"  Jack raced inside the mansion.

            "SEE IF I GET IT FIRST!!"  Howard raced after him.

            "WELL I GET THE BANISTER!"  Eddie retorted as he made his own way in.

            "Wait…Eddie…how?  You'll slip…" Jared shook his head as he galloped after the others.

            "Hey Bruce, come on!  They're getting all the good spots!"  

            "Well, you guys got a head start!"  Bruce bolted past Oliver.

            "NOT FAIR!"

            And so, the sleep over which left Alfred's hair a bit whiter, began.  It was remembered as one of the most eventful sleepovers the boys had ever had.  Toilet paper was used for purposes other than it's original intent, 'mystery pancakes' were made and consumed, while pillows, couches, tables and other accessories to the house were found in other rooms then their original spots.  Ah yes, at 14, life was very good for those boys.  


End file.
